FIFTY YEARS AGO.
It is said, and I think truthfully, that youthful impressions are
more lasting than any others. This is my own experience, for my mind
is stored with early reminiscences. It is verified by no less a
person than my dear old friend, Bishop Cridge, who told me quite
recently that he well remembered an incident that occurred to him
when he was between three and four years old--that of a regiment of
soldiers passing through his native village, and of his following
them quite a distance from his home, and of the distress of his
family on discovering his absence. In a long life of ninety-one years
this is, I think, remarkable. Well, this is not the subject of my
present writing. It is to give my impressions of this fair city fifty
years ago, as I remember it as a child.
To-day fifty years ago I landed with my parents and brothers on the
Hudson's Bay Company's wharf, having arrived from San Francisco on
the steamer _Northerner_, which docked at Esquimalt, as all
large ocean steamers then did. We came from Esquimalt on a small
steamer, the _Emma_, or _Emily Harris_. The latter steamer
was built, I think, by Thomas Harris, and named after his daughter,
Mrs. William Wilson, whom I am pleased to know is still a resident
with her family. The scene will ever be impressed on my mind as I saw
my future home on that 12th day of February, 1859. Outside Johnson
Street on the north, Blanchard Street on the east, and the north end
of James Bay bridge on the south, everything else was country--oak
and pine trees, with paths only, otherwise trails made by Indians and
cattle. Within this wood under the oaks were wildflowers of all kinds
in profusion. Through these woods and by these paths I went day by
day to the old Colonial School on the site of the present Central.
With the exception of private schools kept by the late Edward
Mallandaine, and another kept by the late John Jessop, our school
supplied the wants of the time. It was built of squared logs,
whitewashed, and was the residence of the master as well. It was
situated in the middle of a large tract of land which is to-day used
for school purposes. The school was built in the middle of a grove
of oaks, and there could not have been a more beautiful spot. Under
these oaks we boys and girls (alas, how few are left), sat at noon
and ate our lunch, or rested after a game of ball, or "hunt the
hounds." Those were happy days in their rustic simplicity, and so
will those say who remain to-day, fifty years later. There are
several living here in the still fair city of Victoria, but how many
have gone to that bourne whence no traveller yet returned?
We made what would now be considered a pretty long trip from San
Francisco, eleven days. Just think of it, long enough to have gone to
Europe. We passed on and out of the east gate on to Fort Street. How
strange it all looked to me after the large city of San Francisco. As
I have before stated, nearly the whole block from the Brown Jug
corner to Broad Street was an orchard. I "borrowed" apples from this
orchard later on, and good they tasted, and like stolen sweets were
sweetest. Fort Street from Government up was a quagmire of mud,
this street not having been paved, as it was later, with boulders
from the beach and with a top layer of gravel or pebbles, also from
the beach. The sidewalk on the Five Sisters' side of the street was
made of slabs, round side up, and was very slippery in wet weather.
This I have from my brother. I can remember the other side of the
street was made of two boards laid lengthwise.
Douglas Street had many tents on it, as well as did Johnson. Where
the Five Sisters' block stands was a log house, set back from the
street. This was the company's bakery, where I used to go for bread
at 25c. a loaf (about four pounds). There was not a brick building on
the west side of Government Street save the residence of Thomas
Harris on the corner of Bastion. His daughter, Mrs. Wilson, with a
large family, is with us to-day. This building was afterward
converted into the Bank of British Columbia.
[Portrait: George Richardson.]
The only brick building on the east side was the Victoria Hotel, now
the Windsor, the first brick building in Victoria, constructed by
George Richardson, still a resident. Where the B. C. Market is now
was a neat cottage built of squared logs whitewashed, with green door
and window casings. It was the residence of Dr. Johnson of the
company's service. The corner now occupied by the Bank of Commerce
and the C. P. R. offices was vacant lots, and there were many other
vacant lots on that side of Government Street, both north and south.
There was a lake on View Street above Quadra, with good duck shooting
in winter. Fort Street from the corner of Douglas Street east was
blank, with the exception of a lot of Hudson's Bay Company's barns,
set back in the block. This was, I believe, the site of a farm before
1858, for there were so many evidences of it when I played in
these barns as a child, often helping, as I thought, to unload hay
for the cattle which were kept here in the winter.
A deep ravine ran east and west between Johnson and Pandora Streets
into Victoria harbor. This ravine was bridged at Store, Government
and Douglas Streets, behind Porter's building. There were only two
wharves in the harbor south of the bridge to the Indian reserve. Over
this bridge all traffic passed to Esquimalt and surrounding country
until Point Ellice bridge was built.
The Songhees reserve was covered with Indian lodges, and the Indians
were numbered by hundreds. At times of feasts, when they had a
potlatch, or at the making of a "medicine-man," the reserve was a
lively place and the noise deafening with their yells, both day and
night. It was unsafe to go there at night when these celebrations
were held. Many outrages were committed on passers-by by Indians when
in a state of drunkenness.
Over James Bay to what is now the outer dock, was a forest of pines
and oak trees, with very few residences. With all this rustic
simplicity we lived and enjoyed the passing hour. We have many things
now we did not dream of then; not knowing of them we did not miss
them, and were just as happy without them. I might conclude thus
with:
"Victoria, the sweetest village of the west,
Scene of my youth, I love thee best."